


The Threefold Cord

by Treon



Series: Free as a Bird 'verse [11]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: The White Collar team overhears a call that could spell the fall of Neal Caffrey





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a writing exercise, and I do not have the entire plot fleshed out in advance. I plan to post short installments every week or two.

It was a boring evening in the van.   Clinton had been tasked with guiding Adam, the new probie on the team, on one of his first stakeouts.      
  
Their current target was Dao Quy, a smuggler of rare art.  The White Collar team had been tipped that he was going to handle a lucrative shipment in the upcoming days, and had then managed - after shaking up every CI they had - to tap his phone.  
  
Sitting outside his apartment building, the agents took note of everybody who came in and out.  It had promised to be an engaging evening, but so far, the only person who'd approached the building was a pizza-boy, who seemed legit enough, and hadn't shown up on any face-recognition scans.  
  
Following _that_ flurry of excitement, the only other development was Adam getting on Clinton's nerves.  There was an annoying fly buzzing around the van, and Adam was even more annoyingly trying to catch him with a used paper cup.  
  
Finally the senior agent had had enough. "Adam!"  
  
The agent in question had just brought down the cup on the edge of the console.  "What?"  
  
"Can we focus?"  
  
Adam picked up the edge of the cup, and was disappointed to see it was empty.  "Yeah," he sighed.  
  
"We're here to catch _criminals_ ," Clinton reminded him.  
  
Adam gave him a dour look as he sat back down.    
  
The minutes continued to tick by and Adam started fidgeting again.  Finally he broke down. "Can I-?"  
  
"Keep your eyes on the monitor, Probie."  
  
"There's nothing happening out there!" Adam gestured at the video feed. "We've been sitting on him for over a day.  What if your tip was wrong?"  
  
It had been Clinton's CI who had brought them the tip.  
  
Adam was saved from Clinton's scathing reply about the virtues of patience when Dao's phone rung.  Clinton mumbled under his breath and reached for the headphones.  
  
"Yeah," Dao said.  
  
"You've got it?"  
  
"Caffrey said-"  
  
Clinton bolted upright in his seat, shushing the probie next to him before he could spit out the unasked questions on his lips.  
  
"-the piece tomorrow."    
  
"Good. Make the transfer, and then.. " He made a popping noise.  "You know what to do."  
  
"He's a talented kid, Sean.  And reliable.  Finding another forger with that kind of attention to detail... it's-"  
  
Sean didn't let him finish.  "Business is business. Right?"  
  
There was the slightest pause before Quy answered. "Right."  
  
"What about the Feds?  Still sitting on your tail?"  
  
"Yes, but don't worry about it, I'll lose them before the meet."  
  
"Good."  And with that the call disconnected.  
  
Clinton was already dialing Peter.        
  
"Jones," Peter answered in a whisper, "this better be important."  He and El had gone out for a movie, and he was drawing annoyed looks from the audience around him.  
  
Clinton didn't bother replying, and instead played back the call.    
  
There was a long silence on the line when it ended.  
  
Catching Neal Caffrey red-handed.  This was the break they've been hoping for.  Caffrey had so far managed to slip out of every trap they've tried to set for him.  But what if they missed the handoff?  
  
"Peter?" Clinton broke into his thoughts, returning him to the present.  
  
"Yeah.  Keep watch on Dao.  I'll be in touch soon."  
  
He turned to El, who already had an understanding look in her eyes.  "I've got to go, I just-"  
  
She put a finger to his lips. "It's okay."  
  
It wasn't, but there was nothing he could do about it.  "Don't wait up."

He gave her a quick kiss, before getting up and making his way through a row of legs.  With a deal going down tomorrow morning, he doubted he'd make it home for the next 24 hours.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Peter was just reaching for the door of the White Collar offices, when Diana exited the elevator and ran up after him.  "Sorry I'm late, Boss, I was just in the middle of-"  
  
Peter waved that off with a tired smile.  "We all were."     
  
Inside, the place was buzzing with activity, anticipation in the air.    
  
Peter was proud of his team.  They had all gone home just hours earlier, after a full workday, and here they were, back again.  Ready for what promised to be a long night.  
  
Somebody had thoughtfully brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and Peter stopped to fill his mug before calling for a meeting in the conference room.  
  
The agents crowded in, lining the walls around the large table.  
  
Peter had no time to prepare a presentation, and therefore he simply taped two pictures on the board.  "Dao Quy." He tapped a finger on one picture, a surveillance photo of the Vietnamese smuggler. "And Neal Caffrey". He pointed to the other picture, this one a mug shot of Neal, smiling.  Peter wondered if he'd be smiling at his next one.   
  
"Anybody here not know these two?"  
  
He got a few chuckles in acknowledgment.  
  
"Good.  They're going to be meeting for an exchange tomorrow, and we're going to be there.  We got this tonight from Dao."  He then played out the recording of Dao and his colleague.    
  
"Dao made our van," Peter said.  "I want two more undercover teams around the building, and I want a team on Caffrey."  
  
An agent raised a hand in question. "Is he still at the Gansevoort?"  
  
"As far as we know.  Everybody else will be on standby here.  Once either of them starts moving, we'll move to intercept.  Remember, Dao is going to be armed and dangerous.  We need to stop him before he tries to take out Caffrey.  Any questions?"  
  
There were none.  
  
"Diana, you lead the team on Caffrey..."   
  
Once the surveillance teams departed, there wasn't much to do but wait.  Peter told everybody to try and rest as much as they could, then went back to his office, to review the information they had on Dao and Caffrey.  
  
When his phone showed an incoming call from Diana, he didn't need to pick up to know that the news wasn't going to be good.  "Yeah?"  
  
"Boss, we've got a problem," Diana got straight to the point.  "I spoke to the doorman here.  He says Caffrey went out around lunchtime and hadn't come back since."  
  
Damn.  "Maybe he missed him."  
  
"We're checking with hotel security, and getting the security feeds from around the hotel."  
  
"Okay, let me know if there's any news."  
  
"Will do."  
  
Most likely, Caffrey had already gone to ground ahead of his next 'business meeting'.  Peter called Jones to update him, then went back to review his files.    
  
They didn't have much on Dao.  He'd been a person of interest in a couple of cases involving art smuggled in from the Far East, but they've never had enough to arrest him, let alone charge him.  He'd never been suspected of violent crimes before, and Peter wondered whether he'd just managed to keep under the radar all this time, or whether it really wasn't his thing.    
  
At some point he nodded off, but woke up with a start barely ten minutes later, having dreamed that the Feds had managed to corner Dao, just a second too late.  The image of a death-pale Caffrey, bleeding on the ground, went a long way to ensuring he did not fall asleep again.  
  
In the van, Clinton kept watch on his new probie Adam.  Quite early in the night, the younger agent had run out of steam, and much to Clinton's relief, was now content to just sit and stare at the surveillance monitor.  
  
But as the night wore on, Clinton himself got antsy.  They had not heard a peep from Dao ever since that one phone-call many hours ago.  In itself that wasn't too suspicious, but the teams spread out around the building had so far reported they caught no sign of movement in the apartment.  The lights hadn't been turned off, either.  
  
Close to midnight, Clinton decided to risk it, and sent in an agent, posing as a pizza delivery guy.  
  
  
The call caught Peter pouring himself his third cup of coffee for the night.  He squinted at the phone.  "Jones, is Dao on the move?"  
  
"Dao's gone."    
  
Peter could feel his heart skip a beat.  "You're sure?"  
  
"Positive."  
  
The meet was about to go down, and the FBI was now helpless to stop it.


	3. Chapter 3

One of Mozzie's safehouses was located inside an industrial storage facility, down by the docks. Among the shelves, packed from floor to ceiling with imported wares, he had created his own little niche. Nobody even knew the place existed.

It was here that Neal had set up his studio for Dao's job. The police had searched his place a couple of times in recent months, and he couldn't risk keeping anything incriminating there.

The deal was about to go down in a few hours, and Neal, monocle held closely in his right hand, was checking over his latest creation - a reproduction of an 18th-century byobu folding screen.  He wasn't known for being very humble, but he thought that this was, without a doubt, one of his best works.

Mozzie was lying on a nearby couch. Glass of Mataro firmly in hand, he was already thinking about their next endeavor. "Did you hear that a Song Dynasty bowl was sold for 38 million dollars recently?"

"Yeah, I heard something about that."

Mozzie sipped the wine, mulling over the idea. "We're in the wrong business."

Neal looked up from his work. "And what business would that be?"

Mozzie gestured vaguely with his wine glass. "We should be in Ru ware. 38 million dollars, Neal. Do you know what we could do with that kind of money?"

"Buy a Song Dynasty bowl?"

Mozzie finished off his wine. "I'll set it up, then."

"Set what up?" Whatever Mozzie had in mind, Neal was sure he was going to be expected to do something. "You can't just waltz in with newly discovered Ru ware."

"When has that ever stopped you?"

"Moz, I-" he stopped when his phone started ringing. Neal reached for it.

"Dao?" Moz asked.

"It's Peter," Neal said, surprised.

"The Fed?" Mozzie sat up.

"Yeah." Neal glanced at his watch. It was almost 1 AM. He lifted a finger to his lips to signal Mozzie to keep quiet, then tapped the phone to answer it. "Yeah?"

"Neal? This is Peter."

"Peter! Long time no speak! What a pleasant-"

Peter cut him off. "You're about to walk into a trap."

"I- what?" This was unexpected.

"Dao Quy. Sound familiar?"

Neal had a sinking feeling in his stomach, but his voice sounded just as flippant when he answered back. "Who?"

"Damn it, Neal. Listen to this." Peter played the recording of Dao. When the clip ended, Neal remained silent for a long time. "Neal, you there?"

"Yeah." He forced himself back to the call. "Yeah. Look, I don't know what this is about, and I don't know any Dao."

Peter snorted. "I don't have time for these games. When's the meet planned for?"

"Peter, you know I'd love to help you out, but I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"You expect me to buy that?"

"You know I've gone straight."

"You expect me to buy _that_?"

Neal was getting tired of this. "I don't expect anything. I'm telling you the facts."

Peter, on his end, was also getting exasperated. He hadn't expected Neal to make a full confession, but he had hoped that the conman would pay him back for the update and be more open with the details. "The _fact_ is that Dao is planning to ambush you. You tell us when and where, we'll arrest him. You'll have full immunity."

"I'm sorry, Peter."

"Neal!" But the line had already gone dead. "Damn!" Peter slammed the receiver down.

How could he have been so stupid?


	4. Chapter 4

Peter ran a hand through his hair.  Tipping off one of his prime suspects had been a calculated risk.  He had hoped that Neal would agree to play along, but he hadn't put all his eggs in that basket.  
  
"Anything?" he asked.  
  
Three techs had set up in the conference room where Peter had made the call, and had followed the call, attempting to trace its source.  They now shook their heads.  "He’s somewhere near the docks," one of them explained, "but we couldn’t get a fix."  
  
"They're not going to make it easy, are they?" Peter asked nobody in particular, and walked out towards the bullpen.  He hadn’t really expected this to work, but he figured he had to at least give it a shot.  Now he had to figure his next move.  
  
Which was exactly the issue on Neal's mind.  Following Peter's call, Neal turned to survey his latest creation.  Was the folding screen the reason Dao wanted to kill him?  The fence wasn't one of Neal's closer friends, but they had worked together in the past, and both sides profited off that partnership.  It didn't make sense.    
  
Mozzie had sat up as he followed Neal's side of the call and now waited for his friend to update him.  Finally, his impatience gave way.  "The Feds know about Dao?" he prompted.  
  
"Hm?" Neal turned to Mozzie. "Oh, yeah."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And," Neal sighed, "the FBI got Dao on tape saying that he's planning to kill me."  
  
Mozzie's eyes opened wide. "What?! Why would Dao want you dead?"  
  
Neal shrugged.  "Good question."  
  
"So.. Now what?"  
  
"Now we figure out what to do."  
   
"I told you not to work with Dao," Mozzie pouted.  
  
"No, you didn't."  
  
Mozzie was about to argue, but then realized Neal was right.  "Okay, but I never trusted him."  
  
Neal was getting exasperated with this 'I told you so' attitude.  "You never trust anybody."  
  
"Hm." Time to change the subject. Besides, there was something weird about the whole call.  "Why did the Suit call you?  Just to warn you that Dao wants to kill you?"  
  
Neal chuckled at that.  "The Feds thought they could use me to help them arrest Dao."  
  
"Sounds like a plan."  
  
Neal looked up in surprise.  He hadn't expected Moz to take the Feds' side on this.  "Sounds like a plan?" he repeated.  
  
"Well, he wants to kill you, right?  The Feds arrest him, you've solved your problem.  We do it right, we can probably walk away with the money and the screen, and who knows what else."  
  
"Since when did you become such a fan of working for the Feds?"  
  
Mozzie shrugged.  "You already worked with the Feds once.  What's the difference?"  
  
Neal didn't really have an answer.  "I'm not going to run to the Feds every time I have a problem.  I can handle this on my own."  
  
Mozzie raised his eyebrows and poured himself more of the wine.  "Really.  How?"  
  
That was the big question, wasn't it?  Neal considered his options. "We could send a runner."  
  
Mozzie raised his glass. "It would have to be somebody we trust, otherwise we'll never see the money."  
  
"Right." Neal gave Mozzie a long look.  
  
"You've got somebody in mind?" asked Mozzie, completely oblivious.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Neal waited.  
  
Mozzie finally blinked. "Me?  How do we know Dao's not planning on killing whoever shows up?"  
  
"Call it a gut feeling."  
  
"No offense, Neal, but I don't trust your gut instincts right now."  
  
Neal shrugged.  "Then I'll deliver the piece myself."  
  
"Did you miss the part about him wanting to _kill_ you?!"  
  
Neal grinned. "Won't be the first time."  
  
"Neal, I think-"  
  
Neal just waved Mozzie's words away.  "Trust me, Moz. Whatever Dao has in mind, I can talk him out of it."    
  
"Hm." Mozzie sipped his wine quietly.  "Well, I think I need to go."  
  
"Go where?" Neal glanced at his watch. It was the middle of the night.   
  
"Oh... you know. Things to take care of." Mozzie evaded answering.  "I'll see you later."  
  
Once outside, Mozzie punched a few numbers into his phone, then waited while it rang.  
  
A soft female voice answered. "Federal Bureau of Investigations, how can I help you?"  
  
Mozzie affixed a small device over the mouthpiece. "I need to speak to Special Agent Peter Burke, White Collar Division. It's urgent."


End file.
